Hindu New Year??

Today is Gudi Padwa, spring festival, time to celebrate as this is first day of the Chaitra month as per Vikram Samvat, the Indian calendar, heralding the new year. It also marks the beginning of the Nav-Ratri  festivities where Divine Mother is worshipped, the devout observe fasts and rest of us feast. The North Indians , by and large avoid non-vegetarian food and liquor, which itself is a penance for them and will match upto any kind of fasting in terms of sacrifice. True to form there are messages galore on what's app with good wishes on this auspicious occasion. 

While good wishes are always welcome, there were quite a few who were celebrating this as the Hindu New Year, which caught my attention. We don't wish people on 1st Jan for a Christian New Year or an Islamic New Year as per the Hijri calendar. Is time as a dimension different for different religious beliefs? 

We divided time into hours, minutes, seconds, months, years, then lunar/solar calendars were designed to keep track of the time, but irrespective of the system, the rotation of the Earth around the Sun and its revolution on its axis remains sacrosanct. You may start your count from any particular point and will eventually return to the same point exactly 365 days and a quarter of a day later. So whether it is 1st Jan or Gudi Padwa or Navroz,  or for that matter any other random day, each day is the first day of a New Year in its own right. Just that globally the Gregorian calendar finds greater acceptance. Why did 1st Jan find more acceptance as the global new year, well that is obviously due to the colonialism that we all suffered in the era gone by. Since they were the lord and masters, time too had to be measured and kept account of in their own system. Gradually the rest of the world just followed suite more for convenience than for any scientific reason.

It is also universally acknowledged that the Indian Calendar or 'Panchang', as it is known is a lunisolar calendar, meaning it takes into account the movements of both the sun and the moon. Indian astronomers refer to the time-space dimension as "Kala" a single entity, interconnected, which is what Einstein went on to prove much later in the early twentieth century. Incidentally the traditional Chinese calendar too follows the lunisolar system

Anyway the aim is not to stir any hornet's nest, suffice to say that the New Year  is fine but let us not divide it into our religious beliefs. We all will continue to follow the Gregorian calendar for all practical purposes. Greetings for Gudi Padwa and a Happy New Year friends not just a Hindu New Year.

A Room with a View

You have got to hand it to Kunal Kamra, he has a knack of getting into all kinds of controversies. Being a ‘Stand Up’ comedian is a tough job really, firstly he has to physically stand as he can't afford to sit down during the shows, which must be quite an ordeal for him, going by his 'kamra' (room) of ‘kamar' (waist). Well as the adage goes in Hindi "यथा नाम तथा गुण " so you can't blame him for that. Frankly I find his brand of humour not just in poor taste, but also crass as the language he chooses to use is generously loaded with expletives in Hindi. Funny part is the show is in the Queen's language as most of his ilk are to the manor born, his fan following is  typically restricted to the Gen Zee and some of the millennials, as those born prior to that are quite chary when it comes to very colourful language that too in a family setting. 

In the Army we have two types of stuff, one which is kept purely for inspections, be it uniform or crockery, the other one is the 'daily use' variety. The inspection types get relegated to the daily use variety when a new item is procured. Similarly the means of communication with troops differ from that with the hierarchy or at home. With men in uniform, especially when troops belong to the Punjab, the language is colourful but if they are from the hills or down South, one better watch out, as they don't take kindly to such offensive language. Be that as it may, the use of slangs with friends makes communication more informal, so there is greater tolerance there. Even in these gatherings there are some of us who refrain getting colloquial and guess what, we are accepted as we are, despite this flaw of ours. 

But getting back to Mr Room, pardon the pun, this room definitely has a view and not just one but "Views", Kamra of course, he is a gutsy fellow, pokes the high and mighty and doesn't back down. The politicians may actually be cross with him as they are known to eat their words for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and here this guy just refuses to do that. The other remarkable thing about him is his allegiance to the group which is opposed to the present dispensation. We all know there is a good market out there, just write, speak, act in a manner which refers to the powers that be in a poor light and you shall be hailed as a messiah. You will turn into a social media influencer worth courting and you can laugh all the way to the bank. Any trash will do, but be prepared for all kinds of charges, libel suits and even physical threats, yes, the legal luminaries will fall over each other to take your cases even pro bono, nobody minds publicity, you see.

I may not like his comedy, but he definitely has a right to express it, written or verbal, as Voltaire famously said, "I may not agree with what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it." A word of advice for the high and mighty too, if you learn to ignore such pricks, they will lose their nuisance value and they will literally be seeking refuge in some corner somewhere. Life of a social media celebrity is limited to the time he remains relevant, so take your call. If RK Laxman could not just get away with lampooning almost everyone he chose to and still walk away with not just his head held high but also being awarded the second highest civilian award, "Padma Vibhushan", you could too and the best part is even a family audience can watch it with pleasure for whatever is its worth.

Dignity Denied

Is a Sepoy or Sipahi same as the Constable or for that matter a Head Constable or Havaldar in the Army? The roles of Army and the Police Forces are well defined, as the former addresses external aggression , the latter handles the law and order within the country, however whenever the situation goes out of hand it is the Army that the nation turns to and Army on its part has never failed the nation barring 1962, where too the political leadership was more to blame.. Well the Armed Forces and the Police Forces may be donning the uniform alright, but I am sure we all know the colour of their uniforms distinguishes one from the other. But is the distinction just because of the colour of their uniform, which too has been usurped by the Central Police Forces by getting into the Combat uniform similar to those of the Indian Army. While it is understandable that organisations or individuals try and emulate their ideals and as Oscar Wilde said, "Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery that mediocrity can pay to greatness." So the Police Forces went ahead and adopted the same set of Stars, Ashoka and Baton & Swords, flags for the cars and so on. 

All this was generally looked at with some amusement by the men in OGs, not realising that slowly and gradually the distinction between the Armed Forces and the Police Forces was getting blurred not just in the minds of general public but also the media and even the powers that be. Moreover with both these forces joining hands in the counter insurgency operations in the Kashmir valley as also in the North East, some sort of acceptance of  this new hierarchy was also gaining acceptance. Although the bulk of the work in the CI operations was still being done by the Army but the Police had to be kept in the loop as per the laws of the land.

Why am I referring to this fact today, well it is because, that is the crux of the issue of Indian Armed Forces personnel being meted out this step-motherly treatment by all and sundry in the Govt hierarchy. So much so that ill treatment of men in OGs has become quite a common scenario, as is evident in the recent shameful incident in Patiala, where a serving Colonel of the Army and his son were roughed up by 12 policemen. The fact is that the DG Police promising that action will be taken against the guilty can't be taken at its face value as the FIR doesn't mention the perpetrators and has been lodged by a Dhabawalla. The culprits are roaming around free, issuing threats to the victim's family. The fact that the Colonel's wife is the sister of a retired Lt Gen who has been the Corps Commander in Kashmir hasn't changed a thing. The irony is that not one politician from any party has thought it fit to condemn the incident. Without getting into the details of the case, which are already in public domain, the frequency of occurrence of similar incidents from different parts of the country is definitely alarming. We have had similar incidents in the recent past in Odisha, Rajasthan and now even in Punjab, where the Army personnel have always been given their due respect by the people, as most families have someone or the other in the Army themselves and are aware of the sacrifices which these battle hardened men have to make.

The malaise is not these incidents, these are mere manifestations of the rapid decline of the status of the Armed Forces in general and more so vis-a-vis the police forces. The perks, privileges, allowances, terms of service, the powers that they wield, and the resultant status in the society has been so orchestrated over these years that today the Armed Forces are treated with disdain, 

despite their professional excellence and being the last pillar of any democracy. The powers that be indulge in mere optics in the name of respecting this great institution but on ground they just simply ignore them. The situation is precarious and does not augur well for the future. 

I think it is high time, this issue is addressed at the highest level, lest the last vestige of dignity is also  snatched from us. Two Constables from Punjab Police have recently been commissioned into the Army, I just hope and pray they don't regret their decision in days to come.

Bura Na Mano Holi Hai

 "Bura Na Mano Holi Hai!" Holi is such a unique and colourful festival that irrespective age, caste, creed or colour, people can enjoy it to the fullest. The fact that it is celebrated during the Spring season signifies the colourful splendour of mother nature herself as though enticing not just humans but  all beings to join in this cosmic celebration. The micro and macrocosm all merge into this unique dimension when the universe itself is in a playful and joyous mood. Naturally all the fun and frolic may or may not amuse all and sundry, so before one commences operation, the statutory warning is issued, "Bura Na Mano Holi Hai!"

In our near six decades of existence on this planet, we have had myriad types of Holi being celebrated, with parents and siblings, with relations, with friends, with colleagues, with spouse and then with kids and now we are back, where we embarked on this journey in Indore, my hometown. While each Holi brings back memories but the most memorable ones were in the academies with friends. While in RIMC Holi was celebrated with the traditional Mandir parade followed by Holi with the masters, restricted to just application of gulaal and lots of sweets, in NDA, there was nothing official about the celebrations. In hindsight that was a wise decision as the Divisional Officers and Squadron Commanders would have been at the receiving end with all the cadets relishing the mere thought of immersing them with all kinds of colours. So naturally when the cats are away mice play the dirtiest Holi. We were in our second term, not sure how the even would unfold, two of us got ourselves locked in our room with some help from the orderly who got a princely sum of 11 Rs for this deed. We were quietly enjoying the scene which was unfolding in the battalion area, where some of the initiative type  sergeants were being targeted by the third and fourth termers. Invariably the modus operandi was quite identical, get hold of the senior, in this case he was notorious for collecting Identity slips by hundreds on a daily basis for any and every conceivable misdemeanours, committed or imagined to have been committed. At first, the victim tried to plead his case, but the Sergeant was a fastidious one, one couldn't please him any which way. We later got to know that the Identity slips which we all carried by the dozens played which he collected played a major part in his winning the coveted Maths book prize. He used these slips as one side paper to practise Analysis on them. But that realisation dawned on us much later when we realised that the I slip that he picked up did not end up in the form of a punishment in the Battalion Routine Orders of the day.

 Anyway so getting back to the Holi celebrations,  in the first phase he was chased and caught hold off, then  his clothes were torn away, thereafter he was plastered  with all the colours which were available then when he thought that the worst was over, he was dumped in the mud pit where the paste was generously applied everywhere till he gave up the struggle and resigned himself to his fate. Having gone through this with almost a score of cadets piling on him from every possible angle, he was in no state to resist and surrendered. 

The wiser ones amongst the senior lot normally took off for a long run early morning spending time in the hills till the evening rather than risk this misadventure. 

Our luck ran out soon as someone spotted us from down there and then the door and locks are no barriers for determined Holi-mongers, the wire-mesh which was normally our heavenly abode, as we were assigned to seventh heaven quite often, was smashed. I will deviate a little to explain the concept of this stint in heaven that all NDA cadets had to endure. The wire mesh, as I am sure the reader can visualise has number of wires crisscrossing symmetrically which adorns all the cabins on top of the doors, designed so thoughtfully  for ventilation and light. But we were normally found hanging on to the seventh strand of this mesh for our dear lives resting on our fingers alone. Shaolin has some unique methods of toughening up and strengthening the muscles, as we have watched these movies demonstrate in ample measure. They can take a leaf out of the NDA methods  too as our fingers learn to hold our body weight for hours together as any fall from this heaven did not land us in the Garden of Eden, instead we were rewarded with a kick in our royal derriere to be perched back on top.

So the mesh gave way and we were hauled out straight into the same pit and received the very same treatment. The only difference was we had given up right at the outset, so they did not enjoy inflicting the pain, as unless you resist, half the fun is lost.

Subsequent years we were wiser and stayed away from the celebrations. But the mud bath was therapeutic no doubt as it cleared all our misgivings as  our bodies were being manhandled. Now that is the closest one can be to the stage of nirvana as our soul literally was reduced to becoming an observer! Bura na mano Holi Hai!

My Princess has Grown Up

 It was a very quiet Labour room in the Military Hospital Mhow on Friday the Thirteenth December 1996, a lull before the storm, which was to strike soon. Having waited the whole day, and after Preeti had demanded and gorged Bhanwarilal (famous sweet shop in Mhow) Samosas, finally when all the relations were shooed off by the Duty Matron, Ananya decided to finally grace the world in her physical form.

She was the best, and the most precious anniversary gift which could have come our way. Tiny little bundle of joy, that moment  when I held her in my hands is etched in my mind forever. As it was a while before I could hold   Abhijat when he was born in Indore, while I was at Pune for my degree course.  

She was a child in a hurry as she had so much more to convey to all and sundry and spread love and affection all around. She started to walk when she was just about eight months old. Similarly she started to speak when she wasn’t even an year old, I used to always joke that the period in the warmth of the womb has to be taken into account in her case as she was already preparing for it right there. Ever since then, she has kept us all regaled with her banter day in and day out.

My parents named me “Suyash” which was a unique and different name back in the sixties, I dare say, may be they should have taken a copyright on it. Now when it was my turn to name the kids I was naturally inclined to emulate that, so I suggested Shavak for my son, which means a “cub”, I always thought myself to be a tiger so my son had to be a cub, so I presumed, till I was vetoed by the better all knowing half, and I had to settle for Abhijat, meaning original. When it was Ananya’s turn I wanted to call her my precious “Pari” as in a fairy, fairylike, she undoubtedly was, so loving and affectionate. But this time her grandfather had already  christened her “Ananya” which means unique, although the name Ananya is quite common these days, back in the 90s it was not so. Anu was very proud of this fact and would go on to announce to all and sundry, the uniqueness  of her name, so much so that her mail id was “anu.unique@..” 

“Morning shows the day” as the saying goes, or in Hindi ‘poot ke paon palne men’. She was always crystal clear of what she wanted and from whom and how exactly to get that. So as a kid she would resent anyone encroaching her turf, Mrs Divya Mishra  would often lovingly take her home as they were our immediate neighbours. As long as she was the centre of attraction it was good but the moment, another neighbourhood kid entered the arena, she would start throwing tantrums. 

She has the natural grace of a dancer, not formally trained, but her movements are simply poetry in motion, which she has developed on her own and has often  surprised all and sundry with her immense talent. As just a four year old she would start teaching her grandfather dance steps for her then favourite song, “Pyar ki kashti mein’ from the film “Kaho na Pyar Hai” or when she surprised her mother by giving a flawless performance on “Chhote chhote shahron se” from the film “Bunty aur Babli” in Emerald Heights International School, where she was studying, winning accolades form all the staff and students. Dancing is something which comes to her naturally, so does showering love and affection for pets. As she was so fond of them I decided to get one in the Regiment when I was commanding, thinking that would satisfy her and she would get over it, realising being a pet parent is an even greater responsibility than raising two of our own. But she had her way and “Buddy” our Labrador came into our lives in Wellington, where there were more pet dogs than kids in each home. The poor fellow did not realise where he had landed with Anu naturally fawning all over him and showing him off as the handsomest specimen to all her friends and hardly ever leaving him alone. 

The other thing she was so clear and passionate about, was her desire for becoming a doctor, inspired by her bua Richa, a Neurosurgeon, even as a kid, she would hand out prescriptions to all her toys who were her supposed patients. Her Nana, in fact has preserved one such priceless gem even today. These days when kids are quite confused as to what  do they want to do with their lives, we have been extremely lucky, as both Abhi and Anu were very clearheaded as to where they saw themselves as they were growing up. Abhi, a Math geek obviously chose Computer Science and Anu just had to be a doctor and a very good one at that. So here we are, she is Dr Ananya Sharma, MBBS, MD ( Anaesthesia) ready to take on the world.

Somewhere while all this was going on, she met Amit in College and they became friends, with their love for dancing and the fact that their names being Amit and Ananya slotted their roll numbers one after the other, landed them both on the same table for the practicals. She liked his simple, no nonsense approach and a keenness to learn quite appealing. When her friends would come calling at home, he was also there, but we didn’t have an inkling what was brewing then. It was only later, after she had completed her graduation and was halfway through her post graduation that she let us in on this closely guarded secret. Mind you, her siblings were aware, but their code Omerta is so strong that we elders did not even get a hint. 

I think Amit and Ananya are like chalk and cheese, and yet so similar that I think they are ideally suited. Here is wishing them both all the love and happiness. I am sure they will live by my mantra  of “Joie-de-Vivre” and enjoy this journey ahead.

VASANT PANCHAMI

  

  

It’s Vasant Panchami today, and as per the Indian Calendar we are formally announcing the arrival of spring as the winter draws to a close. As Shelly said, “When winter comes can Spring be far behind”, so here it is. Spring  brings with it the fragrance of love and joie-de-vivre, mother nature adorns herself with  mustard flowers in the fields and Flame of the Forest  

(Palash or Tesu in Hindi) literally sets the jungles ablaze with their flowers. Legend has it that when Shiva was in deep meditation and Parvati was unable to get his attention Kama and Rati shot arrows of flowers to divert Shiva's attention and succeeded, thereby despite being at the receiving end of Shiva's ire themselves, Shiva and Parvati united.

 After the gloomy autumn and dreary winter, Spring is a  celebration of life as we know it. Vasant though is not just love, it also signifies valour and courage. I am sure most of us recall the famous, “Mera rang de basanti chola..” composed by Shaheed Ram Prasad Bismil, which Shaheed Bhagat Singh sang while going to the gallows in Lahore Central Jail. The gist of the song is that he wants his attire to be dyed in the saffron colour of fearlessness, bravery and patriotism. Subhadra Kumari Chauhan’s epic poem, “Veeron ka kaisa ho Vasant..”, where she exhorts the warriors to draw inspiration from Rana Pratap and Shivaji, listening to it gives me goose pimples  even today.   

Spring brings with it a new quest for knowledge and wisdom, the day is considered very auspicious for initiating our children into the lifelong pursuit of learning. We pay obeisance to Ma Saraswati who is the goddess of Vidya, where education is not merely academic but holistic which encompasses spiritual quest as well. While most of us associate learning with academic pursuits alone, the fact remains that books form just one small part of the whole gamut called education. Art and culture play an equally important role on this path, so dance, painting, singing all come alive during this season when Sun has moved onto the Uttarayan (Northwards) on Makar Sankranti. Traditionally we celebrate the festival  with Saraswati Pooja and by going 'yellow', as is the theme of the nature itself, so not only do we dress in yellow but even eat yellow sweet rice which are a delicacy and worth dying for. 

This year there are two momentous occasions for our family during this season, the first one being my daughter Ananya's wedding coming up within the fortnight and the second one being a celebration of our very own kathak maestro in the making, Anvaya, my niece graduating at a very young and sweet 16 as a Kathak Visharad. She has been a prodigy and we could sense the natural rhythm in her tiny little feet when she had barely begun to take her first tentative steps. As a two year old she waltzed in to a family celebration dancing in perfect synch with the percussion instruments with traditional matki folk dance form. Her gentle swaying to the beats of the dholak  was so fluent, her donning of the veil so natural that it left all and sundry simply mesmerised. Naturally as she was growing up, she picked up classical dance as her passion apart from the formal education, which in any case she is excelling at.

She has taken after her mother, her aunt (bua) and her cousin Ananya who are all excellent dancers themselves. Ma Saraswati has been extremely kind to our family and we are indeed blessed. In today's day and age with cutthroat competition in almost every field, it is extremely heartening to see someone following her passion in the fine arts which are a celebration of human creativity itself. I dare say it required tremendous amount of courage to go against the beaten path and chart a fresh course as most of us quite naturally do. 

 

TOOTH TRAVAILS

 How I wish wisdom teeth actually imparted some wisdom in the homo sapiens, because merely calling it by this name doesn't change your basic nature and intelligence. If it was so, we would be rid of all the morons that we come across in our daily lives and world would be a much saner place. But I am not so sure of that,  after all it is supposedly the wisest amongst us all who get duped rather easily, it is the street smart variety who get away with  the Jamtara style frauds. Guess what some retired lawmakers, judges, bureaucrats and even defence officers have found themselves at the receiving end of these cyber frauds. More about our gullibility some other time. 

We all have to pay for our sins, and in this very life as the sages say, I am sure this saying would have originated after they faced 'teething' troubles. After all we all are guilty of taking our teeth for granted, and use as also abuse them for every possible conceivable or inconceivable task apart from God ordained job of just chewing. So we have opened bottles using them as bottle openers, the rustic types like me may have eaten sugarcane putting teeth to good use peeling the skin with them, broken hard nuts such as walnuts putting them through these tests and after all these, gorged on sweets, chocolates, giving the flossing or brushing at night a miss every once in a while. Now what do you expect with all these misdemeanours, the teeth also have their limit, and finally the judgement day arrives when they inflict that nagging pain which leaves you numb. This is just a reminder to not take them for granted and then we rush to the dentist to bail us out of our misery.

Dentists are aware that despite their pleas for practising dental hygiene, we have been ignoring it and sure enough chickens come home to roost. The moment you step into the dental clinic, the other patients give you a very empathetic look as they are facing a similar ordeal. We await our turn to take the chair, which is quite akin to the execution chair, just that we are physically strapped on to it. With our mouths agape, we are quite helpless as it is, wondering what exactly is the judgement, is it a normal dental filling or a root canal treatment or it is extraction of the villainous tooth itself. At the mercy of the dentist who almost Godlike in his white apron takes one look and the feeling is akin to letting him in on our closest guarded secrets, almost as though s(he) has seen through you. He knows our dietary choices with the telltale    signs giving out all the murky details. This voluntary invasion of our privacy is quite a scary moment but then it is the Hobson’s choice literally, we need relief from the ordeal. Dentists are true democrats, no not the American Democrat, but the ones who treat everyone the same, as whether you are Trump or Kamala, Modi or Rahul, you have to be at the mercy of the dentist some time or the other in life.

As kids we were made to believe in Tooth Fairies and losing one’s milk teeth may have been a little embarrassing but I think that is the genesis of our teeth travails later in life. Permanent teeth making way for the milk teeth had a deep impact in our psyche, where we had faith in the capability of our teeth to regrow whenever they ran into trouble of any kind but alas life is not a fairy tale. So there is no tooth for a tooth, at least not a natural one.

Dentist’s tools and instruments have gradually become quite hi-tech, with a mere wave of their hand they switch on the lights and focus on that hole on the face, which hardly resembles a mouth as we normally are used to seeing it. A mouth yanked wide open, awaiting the drill is the moment of truth and reckoning for all of us, we say our prayers in our minds of course, in that state ‘speech is silver silence is golden’ is the only adage which is helpful. Gods must be crazy, not the title of the laugh riot of  the Hollywood movie, else why would they make our teeth so strong and yet so vulnerable that a pain there reduces all the roaring tigers into squeaky little mice. One session is never enough, as the dentists derive some perverse pleasure and completing the root canal in a number of phases akin to our attack operations. So in the first phase he merely sets up a sort of firm base for the eventual assault and then gradually he skilfully completes the operation and the victory signal is of course when you can finally close that hole of yours returning it to the mouth that it once was.

Every visit to the dentist is like a New Year’s eve, a day of resolves of all kinds, will never miss a flossing at night, keep clear of chocolates and ice creams and so on, but as is the fate of the other such resolutions, they don’t last even till the morrow. As a species we are quite unique as we knowingly take pleasure in indulging in pursuits which end up being rather painful. I think we all have a sadistic trait somewhere deep within. As you may have guessed, this one is just after one of those dreaded visits, so I can afford to take a panga as they say in Punjabi, hoping the next visit is at least some months away or help me God!